Along for the Ride
by detective-sweetheart
Summary: At first, she was halfway convinced she was going to have to find some way to do away with her elder sister for talking her into this. But that was before. And as they crossed the bridge at the end of the day, she figured that it hadn't been that bad.
1. Hour One

**A/N: This is what happens when I discuss things such as ride-alongs with other friends of mine, and then proceed to go look up the actual regs on the NYPD website, because I have no life. In any case...I own nothing, and here ya go. **

* * *

She sees it as somewhat of a sign that she ends up with her father on the ride-along thing that Maureen talked her into doing.

Whether or not this is actually the case, Kathleen isn't particularly sure, but what she does know is that she has two hours to pretty much sit around in a car with him. It's awkward enough without the thoughts of the last argument they got into sitting between them, and nothing but silence other than that. When she moved in with her older sister, she didn't realize that their 'home precinct' was the 16th, until she had to ask Maureen about it for the forms she had to fill out.

You knew exactly what you were doing, didn't you, she'd asked, and Maureen had done nothing but give her that same smirk their father got every now and then when they were wrong and he was right, and both parties knew it. Kathleen had ignored it, for the most part, because they'd already come this far, and there wasn't really any point in dropping out. So when the call had come, she'd gotten herself out of bed, gotten dressed and taken the short walk to the precinct.

Ten minutes into it, she already wants to scream.

* * *

After another five minutes, she dares to look at her father out of the corner of her eye. He is staring straight ahead, out the windshield, but what it is that he's looking at, she can't see. And she doesn't realize that he knows she's looking until he speaks.

"You aren't invisible, you know."

She nearly laughs. Somehow, she manages to bite down on her lower lip hard enough that she doesn't, but at the same time, she draws blood. The bitter, metallic taste fills her mouth and she wipes at it quickly, with the back of her hand, before Elliot notices. And then she replies.

"Could have fooled me."

When Elliot actually turns to look at her, she has already turned away, to look out the side window, at the people walking by.

* * *

He can still remember a time where she was the one who was more likely to talk to him than any of the others. Now, of course, things have changed, because she's _grown_ now, and she's been through the system, and community service, and a whole lot of other things.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks, and when the light turns green, he goes, because as much as he wants to just sit there and talk, he knows he can't.

The reflection of Kathleen rolling her eyes at him in the window is not at all lost on him, and he wonders when it is that she changed into this person that he barely knows anymore.

"You know exactly what it means," she informs him, with an air of finality reminiscent of her mother, the same air that tells him to drop it.

But Kathleen is not her mother, and as much as she can make herself sound like she wants him to drop it, she really doesn't.

* * *

The last time either one of them played their family's somewhat twisted version of Twenty Questions was before the separation, before everything pretty much got shot to hell and she started hating him and he started wondering what the hell had gotten into her.

But now seems as good a time as any to do it, because there isn't anything else for them to do, and so, Kathleen glances at her father again, briefly, and breaks the silence again.

"If Maureen was the accident, then what was I?"

The question distracts Elliot enough that he nearly misses the fact that this next light has turned red and hits the brake hard enough to send them both flying forward. Kathleen catches herself on the dashboard, hands out to break the impact, and stares at her hands, unwilling to look him in the eye.

"What did you say?" he asks, in that quiet voice that tells her she's either in for it later on or that she's really managed to get to him.

Somehow, she manages to swallow her sudden fear of finding out. "You heard me. If she was the accident, then what was I?"

* * *

He doesn't want to answer her, but then again, he does. At the same time, Elliot finds himself wondering if she only agreed with her older sister's theory of doing this stupid ride-along because she wanted him in a place where he couldn't avoid her.

"Your sister wasn't an accident, so to speak," he says. "At least, not as far as most people know. What makes you think it was an accident?"

To hear him admit that he's actually royally fucked something up once in his life amuses her for some reason, but at the same time, it doesn't.

"Maureen and I did the math once, for one of her projects," Kathleen admits, now. "You know she sucks at math. She asked me to help, and I did, and that's how we figured it out, but she's too afraid to say anything."  
Once upon a time, Elliot thinks at this, I used to know all of my children's secrets. They go again, and he looks at Kathleen, all twenty years of her, and he wonders what else she knows that she shouldn't know.

"If you're trying to ask me whether I regret it, the answer is no," he says, and she looks up at him, startled by the fact that somehow, he's read her mind.

* * *

When they stop again, this time, it's because he's somehow managed to parallel park in front of some random coffee shop that she's never even heard of, but she isn't too surprised that he has. Elliot gets out of the car and motions for Kathleen to follow him; she does.

"You know, your mother and I always meant it when we said that you could tell us anything," he says. "If there's anything you want to ask…"

There are a lot of things that Kathleen would love to ask, but for some reason, all she does is shrug.

"There's nothing, really," she says, and takes the offered plastic cup that holds the iced raspberry mocha drink that she didn't even hear him order and had no idea that he knew that was what she had taken to drinking rather than other things.

"Kat…" Elliot trails off as they go to sit and a low sigh escapes him before he continues. "You might be able to fool your mother, but you don't fool me. What's on your mind?"

Should have figured, Kathleen thinks at this point, also thinking that she's gonna kill Maureen when she gets back to their apartment, for talking her into this. They'd had a conversation about this, once, the two of them, and the twins. About how no matter how much they tried to hide what was going on, their dad the cop always knew about it.

"Too much," she says, staring down at the drink in his hands, and then, "What could you have done that would be bad enough to make Mom leave?"

* * *

For once, he is glad that Olivia isn't there. His partner had been highly amused by the fact that he was getting stuck on a ride-along with his own kid, telling him that it served him right after the events of the past two and a half years. He'd rolled his eyes, grabbed the keys off her desk and gone without saying anything, expecting the two hours to be over, just like that.

But then again, a watched pot never boiled; Elliot looks at his watch and is surprised to find that they still have thirty-five minutes left of the first hour.

"There are a lot of things," he admits. "Things that we…didn't want you and the other three to have to know about, so we never said anything."  
"So, pretty much, you just wanted us to think that you two were happy with everything and then Mom finally got fed up enough to walk, is that it?"  
Her bluntness doesn't surprise him; in fact, he would even go so far as to say that she gets it from him, because it certainly doesn't come from her mother.

"It's more complicated than that," he says, and the pained expression that flits across his face and lasts for all about two seconds isn't at all lost on Kathleen.

The next question that comes out of her mouth actually scares the hell out of her.

"Did you cry?" she asks. "When you came home, and found Mom's note, and saw that all the lights were off, and figured out that we were gone…did you?"

* * *

The last time she remembers seeing her father cry, _really_ cry, it was February 21st, 1993, and the only reason she knows this date is because it was the day that the twins were born. But those hadn't been tears of anything except joy, and maybe even relief that nothing had gone wrong, when so many things could have.

The answer to Kathleen's question is one that she halfway expects and doesn't want to hear.

"Yeah, I did," Elliot says, finally, with just enough hesitation that she knows he isn't just trying to give her the runaround. "Probably not what you expected, but…"  
She cuts him off. "I did, too," she admits. "When I figured out what Mom was doing, I mean."  
If he is surprised by this, it doesn't show, but she doesn't really care, and so she goes on, anyway.

"I hated you both," she says, fiddling with her straw, so she doesn't have to look at him. "I guess it was because it wasn't just Mom, and it wasn't just you, either, but…I don't know. It all got turned upside down and then there was like…nothing."

For a moment, Elliot wonders what she means by 'nothing', but finds that he's almost afraid to ask.

By the time they leave the coffee shop a few minutes later, they aren't arguing, but they're not really talking, either. He wants to know why this bothers him so much now, when it never seemed to before, and realizes vaguely that it probably did, and he just never noticed.

"So, what made you want to be a cop, anyway?" Kathleen asks, when the silence starts getting on her nerves again. Elliot casts a sideways look at her, unlocking the car and getting in. She does the same, and waits.

"I don't know," he tells her. "At first, it was just because I needed to do _something_, and then it was just one of those things."

One of those things. She knows what he means, even if she doesn't want to admit it, and she shakes her head, almost amused by this.

"There was never a real reason, was there?" she asks. "Just something you felt you had to do?"  
"What was I supposed to do, sit around the house all day and do nothing?" Elliot asks, unable to keep from sounding like he wants to laugh at her. "I'd have driven myself up the wall in the matter of a few days."  
Kathleen smirks. "Now you know how I feel, having to sit around all day," she tells him, and then, "Ok, so if it was just one of those things to you, then why'd you take the transfer over here into Manhattan?"  
"Only place that needed someone when I made detective," says Elliot, because it really is the only reason he took the transfer.

"Department says two years in SVU before people start to burn out," Kathleen says, bringing him back to the present, out of his thoughts. "You've been there since two years before the twins were born. Why?"

* * *

That's actually a good question. It hits Elliot at this point that he hasn't actually asked her anything in return, but it doesn't really matter to him.

"I don't…Kat, the department can say what it wants, but it doesn't necessarily make it true. Two years isn't really that long when you think about it."

"Yeah, but seventeen years is," Kathleen counters, "That's almost my entire life, it _is_ the twins' entire life, and technically, according to the department's retirement age, you don't have to retire until Eli's twenty-one, so it'll be most of his life, too."  
"Am I to take it that this is a bad thing?"

"You know, we're not as naïve as you think we are. We know how to find things, and we do actually know what the Special Victims Unit really is."

He doesn't miss the sudden hostile note that her voice has taken on, and it makes him sigh.

"There used to be a time where I'd have given anything for the lot of you not to find out," he says. "Your mother was the one that told me it couldn't last forever."  
"What couldn't?" Kathleen asks, curiosity piqued by this statement, because she has rarely, if ever, heard of her mother making comment such as this. "The fact that you could keep us from finding out what SVU was, or your marriage?"

A faint laugh escapes Elliot at this, and he turns as the green arrow appears. "At first, it was only the latter."

* * *

"Liv called Mom after you got shot in the courthouse, you know."

A brief silence had fallen in between Elliot's answer to Kathleen's question and this remark, which comes as Kathleen stares out the side window, watching people walk by as they drive.

"I didn't know," Elliot says, after a few seconds. "Guess I was more out of it than I thought."  
Kathleen turns to look at him, eyebrows raised. "You're always out of it," she tells him, unable to resist the chance to poke at him. "When's the last time you actually knew what one of us was talking about, off the top of your head?"  
"That's not being out of it, that's just me getting old."  
This time, she laughs. "I wish I had a tape recorder, so I could play that back to you every time you think you know what's going on."  
"When I _think_ I know what's going on?"  
At this, Kathleen shakes her head. "Ok, let me put it this way. Most of the time, you _do_ know, but when you try to put it all together out loud, it comes out wrong."  
"Does it, now?" Elliot trails off, upon realizing that she was trying to distract him from the topic she'd brought up in the first place, and then continues. "Are you gonna tell me how many people were listening in on the conversation Liv had with your mom?"

"You know us too well," Kathleen says under her breath, and this time, Elliot is the one laughing.

"Tell me," he says, and somehow gets the feeling that she will.

* * *

She does.

"The twins started it," she confesses. "They saw Liv's cell number on the caller ID and then they heard Mom pick up downstairs in the kitchen, so they went in your room and picked up in there."

"And you just happened to stumble across them doing this?"

"Actually, Maureen did, so she went down and picked up the phone in the living room, then she came into the office and told me to pick up in there."  
Elliot shakes his head. "I take it your mother never noticed this," he says, more of a question than an actual statement and Kathleen nods.

"She thinks we only knew that you were in Bellevue 'cause we heard everything on the news," she says.

He remembers, then, waking up, to find the four he'd had at that point standing over him, anxious expressions on their faces until he'd told them it wasn't anything _too_ serious, just his arm.

"She was kinda pissed off that we skived off school to come see you, though," Kathleen is saying when he is paying attention again. There is a somewhat defiant look on her face as she continues. "Totally worth it, though."  
"You think?"  
"Well…yeah." She bites down on her lower lip again, this time because the thought that he could have actually _died_ has hit her. "I mean, it would've sucked if that kid had shot you in like, the chest or something and you'd like…died."

* * *

The last time he'd actually thought about his kids worrying about this particular occupational hazard, it was when he'd had his head slammed full on into a glass window, leaving him temporarily blinded.

"That would be why the department insists that everyone has a partner," he says. "Granted, Liv wasn't there in the courthouse, but she was there, afterwards."

"Why wasn't she in the courthouse?" Kathleen asks, startled by this revelation, and Elliot shrugs.

"She and Fin had something else to deal with and Munch decided to tag along to the courthouse with me," he replies. "Technically, we have assigned partners, but it doesn't mean we can't work with other people."  
"Oh." Kathleen fiddles with the charms on the bracelets she's wearing, and goes on. "You and Mom wouldn't have a problem if any one of us wanted to be a cop when we grew up, would you?"  
"Please tell me that's not where you're thinking of going," says Elliot, almost worried by this, but Kathleen gives him a sideways look, and shakes her head.

"Nope," she says. "I don't think I'd be able to make it through the training. The twins, on the other hand…"

"Ah. So that's why they wouldn't talk to you this morning."  
"I've been ordered to give them details when I get the chance."  
"I doubt they'll be impressed. This is about as exciting as it gets, unless something's going on."

The radio in the car crackles then, suddenly, as if someone from dispatch is about to say something, but nothing comes.

* * *

"What made you get in the car that night?"  
Yep, Kathleen thinks at this point, their family's version of Twenty Questions is _definitely_ more than just a little bit weird. She looks at the clock on the dashboard, and is startled to see that fifteen minutes of the first hour remain.

"You mean the first time I got arrested?" she asks, slowly, and watches Elliot nod out of the corner of her eye.

"Yeah, that night," he says. "What made you do it?"  
Kathleen shifts uncomfortably under his gaze, not really wanting to answer, but the rule of the game is that once the question is asked, you have to answer. She mutters something under her breath about how she never should have allowed herself to start playing in the first place. But she answers anyway.

"I wanted to piss someone off," she says. "Not necessarily you or Mom, but just...somebody, so when I got pulled over, I started talking crap to the guys who arrested me, but I wouldn't tell them who I was. And then they found that shield thing you gave me, and it all went from there."

"I see," says Elliot, and then, "Were you really that afraid of what I was going to do?"

She knows exactly what he's getting at, and it makes her look away.

"Yeah, I was," she admits. "Everything was just so screwed up, and everyone just kept talking, you know, all the department kids, and they...well, you know them, they can't ever keep their mouths shut."

"You know, I've been called worse things than Detective "Unstabler", Kat," he tells her.

The shocked expression that crosses her face upon hearing the nickname that she and everyone else had assumed he didn't know about makes him laugh.

* * *

"You weren't supposed to find out about that," she tells him, after a long moment in which he knows she was trying to figure out how she was supposed to reply to this.

"Well, who started it?" Elliot asks, amused. "And for the record, I know it wasn't someone in the department. It sounds a little too 'high school' for that."

"Yeah, it was high school all right," Kathleen mutters, and then, "You remember that day you came by the school to ask me about that one guy?"

The fact that she doesn't remember his name is another source of amusement, but somehow, Elliot manages to keep from saying anything and instead nods. "Yeah, I remember."

"Yeah, well, after you left, those girls I'd been talking to...they were all department kids by the way...they'd been talking about something else while I was talking to you, but they all shut up when they saw me coming back, so I asked 'em if they had anything to hide."

"And they told you."

"Yeah, they told me. How do you think Alyssa fell off the top of the pyramid at the homecoming game that year?"

Elliot looks at her for a long moment and then laughs. "You shouldn't tell me that," he remarks and Kathleen shrugs.

"She doesn't know it was me," she replies. "Besides, she didn't really hurt herself, though it's probably really wrong that I wish she had."

"I would say so, yes," says Elliot, and then, "So she was the one who started it, huh?"

"Yeah. Figured she had the pyramid thing coming."

Elliot turns back to the road and shakes his head. "Y'know, you remind me of my aunt Erin," he says.

Kathleen grins as the image of her father's police captain aunt out on Staten Island comes to mind.

"Nothing wrong with that."

* * *

There really isn't, either, Elliot thinks, except for the fact that he knows when Erin gets annoyed with someone, anything that happens to them usually isn't traced back to her. It's never anything serious; usually just something to make everyone else laugh, but the fact remains that it gives the illusion that one can get away with anything.

"Don't you go asking her how to get away with stuff," he says, then, a lame attempt at some kind of warning that Kathleen will probably ignore anyway. Sure enough, she smirks at him.

"How do you know I haven't already?" she asks, and then, "How'd you end up so close to her, anyway?"

"It's a really long story," says Elliot, and from the look that crosses her face, he knows that she's going to wait until he tells her. He sighs. "You really want to know?"

"Well...yeah," says Kathleen. "I mean, if you don't want to talk about it, then I don't have to know, I'll get it if you tell me to back off."

"I'm not going to tell you to back off, it's just that...it really is a long story, and I don't think an hour is long enough to tell you with all the questions you might have."

"You're off shift in an hour; Olivia told me when I came in. If you really don't want to talk about it, just tell me."

Elliot looks at the dashboard clock and then at her. "I haven't eaten all day," he says. "We'll go somewhere, and then we can talk."

* * *

Ironically, they end up at the same place they were when she showed him exactly how easy it is for underage kids to get alcohol just because they look old enough, and the same place they were when he burned her license.

"What is it with you and this place?" she asks. Elliot shrugs.

"Your mother and I used to bring you guys to this place, when you were all younger and it was easier to get you all in the car at the same time," he says. "Guess it's just habit."

Kathleen wonders how many times he wandered into this place, then, during the time in which her parents were separated, but not counting the two times he came with her, if it's just 'habit'. Familiarity is comforting, she muses, especially when you don't know where things are going to go.

"So, are you gonna tell me about why you and Aunt Erin are so close?" she asks, finally, when they sit, across from each other.

"I had issues with my parents, kinda like you have with me," Elliot says, dryly. "Some days, it got to the point where I thought I'd drive myself nuts if I stayed in Queens any longer, so I went to Manhattan and jumped over to the island."

"Isn't that where your mom's family is from, anyway?"

"Yeah, it is, but I couldn't tell you where in the city everyone else ended up. There are so many people married into the McGuire family, one can hardly tell where it all began anymore."  
Kathleen laughs. "Y'know, I actually sat and tried to figure it out once," she admits. "It was easy enough with Grandma, and Aunt Molly, and Aunt Erin and Aunt Angie, but after that it got complicated."

"Too many kids and not nearly enough people to marry 'em off to," Elliot says, amused, even if it isn't exactly true. "Seriously, though, Kat, the reason I'm closer to her than to my own parents is because they never really made any effort to hide the fact that I was, to put it nicely, a surprise."

* * *

She knows almost at once what he means, and she gapes at him.

"You're kidding me," she says, almost startled. "That's not...well, never mind."

"You asked," Elliot tells her, without looking at her. "I think it's a little late for 'never mind', now. But there is one thing I want you to understand, Kat, and that one thing is that no matter what anyone else has to say about it, no matter what else you might have heard, I was always going to come home if your mom wanted me to."

She knows that what he means, what he's leaving unsaid is that he would have come back regardless of the fact that her mom got pregnant again and eight months later got into a car wreck and had a baby and everything else that came in between.

"So, when they found out that Mom was pregnant with Maureen, what'd they do?" she asks.

He knows that he should have figured she was going to ask that, but as it is, he hadn't been thinking about it, hadn't really been thinking about anything at all besides wondering what the hell was making her want to know all of this all of a sudden, because the truth was, he didn't _really_ want to talk about it. But if the rules of the game applied to her, then they applied to him as well.

"Well, they're the reason why your mother and I lived with Erin until a couple of months before you were born, and even then, we stayed on the island until you were four."

She remembers this. "You ever wish you'd stayed out there instead of moving into Queens?"

Elliot laughs. "Not really," he says. "You stay out there long enough, you start getting tired of it; I still don't see how Mike managed to work out there for ten years, but that's beside the point. Why do you want to know all of this, anyway?"

Kathleen shrugs. "I don't know," she says. "Maureen said the only reason she wanted me to do this was 'cause she was tired of me always complaining about you and Mom and everything else, and she wanted me to talk to you."

"Presumably in a place where she knew I wouldn't be able to get away from it."

"Hey, I gave you a chance to get out of it; if you don't wanna talk to me, you're perfectly welcome to drop me off at the apartment on your way back to the precinct."

"The rules say two hours."

"Since when do you ever follow the rules?"

* * *

This question is what makes Elliot wonder exactly how long his children have been following his career, because he knows that over the past couple of years, the press has been all over anything, though he can't for the life of him figure out _why_ this is.

"You know, sometimes if you go by the book, things get more screwed up than they already were. The rules aren't always in black and white, either," he tells her, "But you're changing the subject again. You didn't tell me why you want to know all of this."

"Dad...I don't know, all right? I really don't. If I'd known everything was screwed up from way back when you were a kid, I wouldn't have started, 'cause hell, I wouldn't want to talk about it, either, which is why I'm changing the subject now."

"But you don't have to change the subject. If you really want to know everything, then ask."

"I don't want to ask. This isn't something I should've asked about in the first place. Does Mom even know about this, or is that one of the reasons why she left?"

"It wasn't because of that. And yes, she does know, because she grew up with me. Well...close by, anyway. We didn't actually know each other until high school, but there you have it."  
She's heard the term 'opening a can of worms' many a time before, but never knew what it _really_ meant until now. In all the years that she's been in this world (twenty-one in July, and old enough to drink, she thinks, and pushes the thought away, quickly), she never would have thought that there was something like this that happened in her father's life.

"Is that why you were always so pissed off all the time?" she asks, tentatively. "Because it was all starting to come out on the surface and you didn't want to deal with it, so you just got mad at everything?"

"It's part of it, yes," Elliot admits, even though he doesn't want to. "Kat, you know...I was never mad at you, or your siblings, or your mother, even after she left and took you all with her, because I know why she left."

"Why, then?"


	2. Hour Two

**A/N: And here's the second and last part. I still own nothing. **

* * *

She'd asked him once before, and he'd avoided the question, because it had hurt to think about it then. And it hurts to think about it now, but she has been so distant and so unwilling to talk to anyone for so long about whatever's been on her mind that he's almost afraid that if he tells her that's one question she can't ask, she'll clam up again. The first hour is up, and they are ten minutes into the second, and there is plenty of time to answer everything, but at the same time, there isn't. And he knows it.

"Because she was afraid," he says, without looking Kathleen in the eye. "Of me. I used to think I'd never give her any reason to be, and then like you said, it all started coming to the surface, and I didn't know how to deal with it."

She knows better than to ask if he's actually physically struck her mother, because she knows he hasn't, knows he wouldn't, and knows that her mom would have hit him back if he ever had, because that's just how she is.

"Do you now?" she asks. "Are you talking to anyone about it? And no, Olivia doesn't count."

The last part is an afterthought, and Elliot knows it. Amused, he leans back in his chair, and nods. "I am, actually," he says, "And I'll trust you to keep it between the two of us."

"Does Mom know?"

"Yes, she knows."

Satisfied with this answer, Kathleen leans forward and dips her head to take a sip of the soda in front of her through the straw that's been bobbing up and down in the glass for the past few minutes.

"So, you're close to Aunt Erin because of your parents, and 'cause she took you and Mom in after your parents kicked you out, but this gives me another question."

"Ok, shoot."

"Is she one of the reasons why you became a cop?"

* * *

Back in 1976, when he was ten and just starting to _really_ get why things at his own home were so screwed up, there was a drug war going on in New York City. It was also when he'd started spending most of his time after school out on the island, because that was where everyone else was, and because it was better than staying at home where most things that went wrong were somehow his fault in one way or another.

As Elliot thinks about this, he realizes that the only answer he can possibly give is 'yes', and so he nods. "Yeah," he says. "She is. I was ten during the first drug war and watching her and the others at night on the island with all their files and their plans spread out across the counters and the kitchen table...it was something that caught my attention."  
"What, the so-called glamour of it all, or the fact that when the first drug war was over, they'd managed to take down two different rings, solve at least ten open homicides and still have time to tell the brass and IAD to screw off when they were finished?"

"All of it," Elliot tells her, laughing at the way she's put this. "How do you know so much about it?"  
"Project," says Kathleen. "Sophomore year in high school, US History. Find something that profoundly affected an area of the United States and research it, then do a poster and a research paper on it."

"And you just happened to stumble across the first drug war as a topic?"  
"Actually, Mom was the one who pointed it out to me. Said I'd find people from both sides of the family that were involved, and I did. I never knew Mom's aunt Melanie died because she was the lead prosecutor on the case."

The reminder of this brings back another memory, that of Alexandra Cabot, who "died" for much the same reasons. The last time Elliot actually saw her was three years ago, because of her involvement in another case, but since then, nothing.

"Lot of people died because of that," he says, finally. "When it was over, the detectives that were involved...it took a lot for the department to get them to want to stay, and even then, a lot of them didn't."  
"But Erin did, and Jimmy, and all their friends..." says Kathleen, trailing off when Elliot nods.

"Yeah, they did," he replies, "But it wasn't easy. That's the thing about this line of work...it's never easy. Even when you think it will be, it's not, because when you least expect it, something goes wrong."

* * *

Kathleen wonders for a moment if the way he says this means that there is a lot more to it than he is letting on, but she doesn't want to press. The conversation has taken a decidedly dark turn, and this isn't exactly what she was aiming for, but at the same time. she thinks that maybe, if this is the key to understanding her father a little bit better than she did, she doesn't want to let it drop.

"Have you ever wondered what things would be like if you'd gone a different way?" she asks. He looks at her for a long moment, and then sighs.

"Kat, I _really_ don't get why you're asking me all of this now," he says, quietly, and then, "Yeah, I do. And y'know, the first time, I actually thought things might have been better if they'd turned out differently, and I thought the same the time after that."

"Any regrets?" Kathleen asks, dryly. Elliot shakes his head.

"None whatsoever," he replies. "It took me a while, but I managed to figure out that my life would really suck if I didn't have your mother, and I didn't have you kids."  
"Past two years probably sucked pretty badly then," she remarks. He laughs.

"Yeah, they did," he says. "I never really understood what it was to be a 'weekend parent' until last year, and I gotta tell you, kid, I hated it."

"Yeah, it kinda sucked," says Kathleen. "We were all so used to being able to see you just...whenever, and then suddenly, Mom's all like, well, you can only go on this day, and that day, and school holidays...Liz was just like...'wtf' about it, and so was Dickie, and I was, too, but there wasn't really anything we could do about it."

Elliot is fully aware of the fact that 'wtf' is shorthand for the saying 'What the fuck', having been informed of this by Munch, of all people, and has the feeling that his youngest daughter probably actually said this out loud, which has him once again trying not to laugh.

"I never meant for it to go as far as it did," he tells her. "I thought that once I figured out how to deal with it, things would get better, and then I never had time to slow down and actually do something about it."  
"Aren't you the very one who said there was time for anything when it came to your family?"  
"Yeah, I did. And if you want to call me an idiot for not listening to myself, go ahead. Heaven only knows I've done it a million times over already."

* * *

When the food finally comes, they eat in silence, but only for a few minutes, because at this point, Kathleen decides that the conversation needs to take on somewhat of a lighter tone, and the only way to do this is to catch her dad off guard.

"What's your favorite color?" she asks, and he looks over at her.

"You're kidding, right?" he asks in reply, and when she shakes her head, he leans back.

"I don't really have one," he says, and she looks at him with raised eyebrows, shaking her head agan.

"Now you're lying," she tells him. "I heard you tell Maureen what it was once, but we both know favorite colors change like ringtones, so I guess a better question would be what your favorite color is _today_."

"Yellow," says Elliot, then, just to be difficult, and Kathleen, who's leaned down to take another sip of her drink, laughs, somehow managing to take some of it up her nose.

"Geez, Dad," she says, reaching for a napkin, "D'you have any idea how painful snorting Coke up your nose is?"

Her comment causes him to do the same thing, and he, too, reaches for a napkin. "Well, now I do," he says, trying to stop laughing. "Thanks a lot, Kat."

"Serve you right, saying your favorite color is yellow; that's like the biggest lie I've ever heard, and that includes Maureen saying she only snuck out her sophomore year to hang out with a couple of girlfriends."

* * *

All this comment does is prove Elliot's theory that Kathleen and her siblings cover for each other when they know things are going to get complicated, and he shakes his head at her.

"You did know something about that, then," he says, more of a question than a statement.

"Well, yes and no. I heard her going out but she didn't turn the lights on and all she did was tell me that she was going to the bathroom, so I went back to sleep."  
"You went back to sleep."  
"What do I care if Maureen has to get up and go in the middle of the night? If I knew she was sneaking out, I might've stayed awake to watch her get caught."  
"You…" Elliot trails off, unsure of how he's supposed to retort to this, and Kathleen gives him an amused look.

"I was kidding," she tells him. "Though it would have been pretty funny, seeing you telling her to breath on you."

"She told you about that?"  
"Dad…Maureen tells me a lot of things, and I tell her a lot of things. It…wasn't always that way, but I guess it got to that point after we figured out how screwed up things were getting."  
He has seen this before, this move of siblings withdrawing into their own little circle, confiding in each other all of those things which they feel they can't tell their parents, for fear of what the reaction will be.

"Did you ever wonder what would happen if you'd said anything to your mother or to me?"

* * *

The truth is that she did, and that Maureen did, and that even the twins did, though the twins are so preoccupied with their own high school drama that it got to the point where they no longer really cared.

"Every now and then I did," Kathleen says now, "But it was just easier to talk to her, y'know? Kinda like sometimes it's easier for you to talk to Liv than to Mom."  
The fact that she's actually noticed this hurts, somewhat. "Sometimes it's not easy to talk to anyone at all."  
"Well, with that in mind, how long has it been since your last confession?"  
"How long has it been since yours?"  
"I asked you first."  
At this, Elliot has to actually drive with both hands on the steering wheel, to keep from reaching out and ruffling her hair like he used to when she was younger.

"Too long," he says. "Almost two years. Again."

Kathleen whistles, startled by this. "Geez, Dad," she says, shaking her head. "Avoidance much?"  
"It's not so much avoidance as not having time."  
"You know, even the best of us have to admit that we're not perfect every now and then."

* * *

Before Elliot can actually reply to this, a song that she knows comes on over the radio, and she turns it up, singing along softly. Strangely enough, it is a song that he knows, as well, and so he joins in.

"You know, you're not so bad," Kathleen remarks, quickly changing the subject before he can remember what they were talking about in the first place.

"Four years of high school choir," says Elliot, and then, "Guess it managed to stick."  
"You do realize that everyone in our family with the exception of Eli has been in the Glen Oaks High School choir, then, right?" Kathleen asks, amused by this.

"Yeah. I'm still waiting for the choir teacher to figure it out; she's been there since I was there."  
"Damn, she's that old?"

"I think most people have lost track of how old she actually is, but then, who's to say that it isn't what she was going for?"  
"You're awful."  
"Hey, you started it."  
And there it is: what he's been looking for over the past three years, and what he assumes she was looking for as well; the chance for an actual conversation that wasn't going to turn into an argument.

"You know, I was thinking I was gonna have to find some way to do away with Maureen when this was over," Kathleen says, after a while, "Now, I'm not so sure."

* * *

In the back of his mind, Elliot can see the way things were back in 1999, when things were starting to unravel, but no one could really _tell_ that they were unraveling. Back then, it wasn't too rare to find the twins chasing after each other for one thing or another, and it was more common than not to see Maureen and Kathleen arguing over who spent more time in the bathroom in the morning, getting ready for school.

"Did she ever tell you the real reason why she wanted you to do this, or was it just because she wanted you to talk to me?" he asks. Kathleen shrugs.

"She didn't say much. Just said maybe I'd get to know you better if I saw what you did for a living, but really, Dad, if this is it…"  
"Trust me, it's not," says Elliot, smirking faintly. "This is one of the better days, actually. Paperwork, you know."

"The infamous paperclip wars, huh?" Kathleen asks, and he nods, laughing.

"Yeah, those," he says. "You talked to Olivia while you were waiting for me?"  
Kathleen nods. "She told me you had to change 'cause you tore your shirt. How'd that happen?"

"We were out trying to help Fin and Lake nail some guy. Guess he didn't want to come in."  
"Sounds painful."  
"Not really. My eye will probably be bruised when I get home, but if your mom asks…"  
"You're just gonna tell her that you were getting on Liv's nerves again."

Kathleen isn't particularly sure as to whether or not she actually approves of this, but she knows at the same time that it isn't up to her. And in all honesty, she would rather that her mother not worry more than she already does.

"It's not that I don't want her to know, Kat. It's just that…some things are better left unsaid." Elliot says, looking at her from the corner of his eye.  
"I know," says Kathleen, and is surprised to find that she actually does.

* * *

"Y'know, I actually did break up with Kevin when I went back into Queens that day," she remarks, a moment later. Elliot looks at her with raised eyebrows.

"All that crap you gave me in the precinct, and you went back and broke up with him?" he asks, and Kathleen notices that he doesn't sound annoyed by it, but rather, amused.

"Went back and found him in the middle of making out with someone who _used_ to be my best friend," she replies, shrugging. "You saw him that weekend, didn't you wonder where he got that black eye from?"  
"You decked him?"  
"Actually, Maureen did. She noticed something was up, so I told her what happened and next thing I know…"

Elliot shakes his head. "One of these days, one of you is gonna deck someone and get hauled in," he remarks.

"Guess we're luckier than we thought," says Kathleen, and then, "Kevin never said anything 'cause he didn't want to admit it was a girl that hit him."  
"Yeah, that sounds like something he'd do," Elliot says, shaking his head again, and Kathleen is once again reminded that he never liked her last boyfriend in the first place.

"Heard you got called on going after him that one time," she remarks, tentatively, and Elliot shrugs.

"I won't tell you he didn't deserve it, because he did," he says. "Probably made me look a lot worse to the press than I already do, but there you have it."

* * *

If she is surprised by the attitude he has on this, she doesn't let it show, he notices, and wonders why this is, but doesn't ask.

"You ever consider the fact that maybe there's a reason why I don't like your boyfriend?" he asks finally.

"Before Kevin?" Kathleen asks in reply, and then, "No. Guess maybe I should have."  
"Even the best of us have to admit that we're not perfect every now and then," says Elliot, parroting her earlier remark, and she swats at him, catching him in the arm.

"You're not actually supposed to throw your kids' words back at them," she says, half-seriously.

"I always thought it went both ways," says Elliot, but she shakes her head at him.

"Nope," she replied. "Kids can throw their parents' words back at them as long as the parent is actually wrong, but parents aren't supposed to do the same; they're supposed to let the kid learn it on their own."  
"Oh, really."

"Yeah, really."  
She sounds a lot older than she actually is, Elliot realizes at this point, and isn't particularly sure as to whether or not he's all right with this.

As it is, however, he's also quite aware that he doesn't really have a choice in the matter.

* * *

"Do you ever wonder if kids would go around telling their parents that they hated them if they knew how it made said parents feel?"  
"Dad, I…" Kathleen starts to answer this question, but falters, and Elliot sighs.

"I know you didn't mean it," he says. "I was just asking."

He watches as she scowls at her hands, briefly, before reaching up to wipe quickly at her eyes, and he pretends not to notice this.

"I don't think they would," she says finally, "But I don't think they really get what it does…I know I didn't."  
And she really didn't, either. Not until she and her siblings had listened in on yet another phone conversation in which their mother had been told that their father had been involved in a squad room explosion.

Not until she'd realized that once again, he'd come this close to dying, and the last thing she'd told him was something she knew she was gonna regret for the rest of her life if he didn't make it.

"It's so stupid," she says, before Elliot can say anything else. "I mean, I know when it was me, I was deliberately trying to cause trouble or whatever, but then…I don't know, Dad, I guess it finally hit me after the last time that one of these days, it might be the last thing I say to you, and then…"

* * *

Once again, he is hit by the sudden realization that his kids know more about the way things are from his point of view than he thought they did.

"I wouldn't worry too much about that if I were you," he says, finally. "It'll only keep you awake at night."  
Kathleen eyes him carefully for a moment, and then sighs. "Have you ever wondered what it might be like to die?" she asks.

"Kind of a morbid question, don't you think?" Elliot asks in reply, and then, "Yes. I have. But it's not something I do often."  
She can't blame him. She thought about it herself, once, but only for a few minutes before it freaked her out enough that she had to turn on the music to make the suddenly dark mood go away.

"If it ever happens, everyone will be taken care of," Elliot is saying when she decides to pay attention again, and she stares at him.

"That's not what I was gonna ask you," she says. "And I didn't need to know it, either. I know you wouldn't just…leave without taking care of stuff."  
He notices her avoidance of using the word 'die', and is almost amused by this, in a twisted sort of way.

"I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, Kat," he tells her. "Or at least, I'd like to think so."

She changes the subject. "What would you do if you weren't a cop?"  
"I wasn't always a cop, you know," Elliot replies, motioning with his free hand to the USMC tattoo he bears. Kathleen eyes it for a moment and then looks back up at him.

"What made you leave the Marines?"

* * *

There is a brief moment of silence, and then Elliot sighs. "I left your mother in New York, when I went to basic training," he says. "Spent three years away from this place, and when I got back, your sister was already walking, and talking…I'd been there when she was born, but the fact that I'd already missed so much hurt."

"So you didn't want to always have to be moving around?" Kathleen asks, and he nods.

"Yeah. Your mom and I both grew up in this place, it was just easier to stay where we knew we'd always be close to family."  
"You ever think about living somewhere else? Besides the time you were in the Marines, I mean."  
"Yeah. We almost moved a few times, but like I said, it was just easier to stay here."

She wonders, then, if she, too, will choose to remain within the confines of New York City for the rest of her life, or if she will leave, and maybe end up somewhere she doesn't want to be, before she comes back home.

"You'd let us come back, though, wouldn't you?" she asks. "If we left and screwed things up so badly that we didn't have a choice but to…we'd be able to come home, right?"

And for what feels like the millionth time that day, Elliot finds himself wondering exactly how much it is that she knows and doesn't know about the way things are.

"Yes," he says, with that note of finality that tells Kathleen there's no real need for her to hear anything more, but he goes on anyway. "Kat…any one of you could screw up to the point where even _I_ couldn't get you out of it, and you would _always_ be able to come home."  
"So, you and Mom wouldn't like, kick me out if I were to get pregnant?"  
He gives her a look at this, but shakes his head. "No," he says, "But then, you're already living with your sister."  
"Yeah, but if Maureen got tired of me…"

"The door's always open, Kat, unless you've managed to lose your key, at which point, someone would have to let you in."  
"But someone always would, right?"  
This time, Elliot does reach out to ruffle her hair, and is somewhat surprised when she doesn't protest.

"Yes," he tells her. "Someone will always be there to let you in."

He turns back to watch the road, then, and a faint smile crosses his face for a brief moment when he sees her fixing her hair again from the corner of his eye.

* * *

"So, if you don't want to be a cop, then what do you want to do?" he asks, after a while. Kathleen looks at him with raised eyebrows, an expression reminiscent of the one he gave her earlier.

"No idea whatsoever," she says. "Which probably isn't the greatest thing in the world, but things have been upside down so long that it's hard to figure out, y'know?"  
Once upon a time, it had been like that for him, too. Of course, every now and then, it still is, but that is one of the few things that she really _doesn't_ need to know.

"Well, at least you've got more time than I do to figure it out," he remarks, and she rolls her eyes.

"There's a nice way to put it," she says. "You know, one of these days, you're gonna jinx yourself, and you're not even gonna know it."  
"I hope not," says Elliot, and then, "Then again, we could end up working with the Feds again sometime soon, so I guess I'd better watch it, huh?"  
"What do the Feds have to do with anything?" Kathleen asks.

"It's kind of an inside joke," says Elliot, "The last couple of times the unit's worked with someone from the FBI, someone on our side's gotten hurt. Munch and I got shot, Liv had to run off to play some undercover role…"  
He trails off, and she doesn't press the issue.

* * *

When she dares to look at the dashboard clock again, she is startled to find that about twenty minutes remains until the end of the second hour.

"Are you going back to the precinct, or are you going to go straight home?" she asks.

"Gotta head back to the precinct and drop this car off," Elliot replies, "Then I'm going home. You need a ride back to the apartment?"

"Actually, I was kinda hoping I'd be able to come across the bridge with you," Kathleen admits. "Maureen's working on a term paper and you know her."  
Elliot laughs, because he does, and he knows exactly what Kathleen is getting at. "Well, if you're that determined to get away from her, then I guess I could haul you across the bridge with me."  
"I hope so, 'cause it would suck having to walk. I can't wait till I can get my license back; you have no idea how much not having one sucks."  
He's half tempted to make a comment about this, but doesn't. If she has learned her lesson, then his job in that aspect is done, but at the same time, it's not.

"You'll get it back soon enough," he tells her. "Just promise me one thing, will you?"  
"Sure, why not?"  
"No more late night joyrides, all right?"  
A faint laugh escapes Kathleen at this, and she nods. "No more joyrides."

* * *

They turn and head back towards the Midtown, and the precinct. Kathleen fiddles with the charms on her bracelet and debates silently whether or not to continue on with the game, but before she can say anything, Elliot does.

"You have an online blog?"

The question startles her, and she looks up, shaking her head. "No," she says. "At least, not yet. Couple of friends are trying to talk me into getting one, but I don't see the point."  
"Not enough time or too much time?"  
"Too much, I think. It'd give me a place to rant and be heard, and maybe that's not really a good thing. You hear about the case these partners from the two-seven worked last year?"  
"What case?" Elliot asks, startled that she knows about it when he doesn't. Kathleen leans back farther in the seat and answers.

"Some girl was posting on her website thinger that she wanted someone to kill her mom, so someone actually went and did it. She ended up being found guilty for the murder by default."

"So, that's why you don't want a blog?"  
"I didn't say I didn't want one; I just think that sometimes people get stupid on the internet, 'cause they think that no one can find them."  
He is reminded suddenly of a case from back in 1999 that involved computers, and him locking the one at home so that the kids couldn't get in without a password…only to find out that all of them knew how to get past it.

* * *

"Makes sense to me," he says, finally. "Have you seen the bumper stickers that say 'Social Networking ruined my life'?"

Of all the things in the world, Kathleen thinks, at that point, and shakes her head. "Yeah, I've seen them," she replies. "I think they're kinda stupid; I mean, if you're going to _let_ it, then of course it's going to ruin your life."  
"Anything in particular ruining your life at the moment?" Elliot asks, just to poke at her, and she rolls her eyes at him again.

"Yeah," she says. "The fact that I have to sit here with you is ruining my life."  
But she's joking, and the way she says this tells him as much, so he laughs. "Good to know," he says. "Anything else?"  
Kathleen shakes her head. "No, that's about it," she says, and then, "You know, the twins are probably gonna want to know a lot more than I'm gonna be able to tell them."  
"So tell them to wait three more years, and then they can do this, too," Elliot replies. "You're not technically under any obligation to tell them anything."  
"Yeah, but I promised I would," says Kathleen, and feels slightly guilty about the fact that she won't have much to say. "Don't suppose you actually want to tell me anything, though."  
"If you're talking about case files, forget it."  
"Dad…if it creeps you out, it's probably gonna do the same to me. I'm not talking about case files."  
"Then…what? I don't know what those two have been watching on TV lately, but being a cop isn't everything they probably think it is."  
"They know it. They already got Aunt Angie to tell them what she does in her unit, so…"

"Oh, great. Now they're never going to leave her alone…" Elliot trails off and shakes his head. "I can't believe she talked to them."  
Kathleen shrugs. "You know her," she says. "She'd have probably talked to me, too, if I'd have asked."

* * *

This is true, Elliot thinks, but isn't particularly sure that he likes it. The second hour is almost up, and then it's home again for both of them, but he can't help but wish that it could have lasted a little longer.

"So, how much paperwork time are you gonna owe Liv for skipping out on her to hang out with me?" Kathleen asks, smirking in his direction. He smirks back at her.

"None," he replies. "You were supposed to go with her, originally, or so the paperwork said, but it got…changed."  
She gives him an accusing look that does nothing to hide the fact that she's trying not to laugh.

"Wow, Dad," she says. "Like you haven't already gotten in trouble for changing things before."  
"Yeah, well, no one committed any crimes this time, and besides, it was Liv's idea in the first place."  
"I _knew_ Maureen was talking to her before I left. It figures."  
"Well…would you take it back, if you could?"  
"Take what back?"  
"Deciding to go through with this, even when you found out you were gonna be stuck with me."  
She mulls this over for a moment, and then shakes her head. "Nah," she says. "I wouldn't."

* * *

When they get to the precinct, she wanders inside with him, because she doesn't want to wait outside, and he doesn't particularly want her waiting outside, either. Night has fallen over New York City; it isn't late, but the skies are dark. So is the squad room, too, the main lights off, and the only lights on being the lamp on her father's desk, and the one on Olivia's.

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd gotten lost," Olivia remarks, and Kathleen offers up a faint smile.

"Nah. Dad knows this place too well to get lost, but try to tell him how to get to Mom's cousin's place in Virginia when we're crossing into North Carolina, and he'll tell you he knows where he's going."  
"I heard that," says Elliot, returning from the crib upstairs, where he's changed into 'civilian' clothes. "You ready to head home?"  
Kathleen nods, finishing off what's left in the soda can she got with change she took from the top drawer of his desk, and then putting the can in the trash.

"Yeah," she says, "You manage to find your keys?"  
Elliot holds up the keyring that has a habit of disappearing on him every now and then. "Right here. Come on, kid, let's go."

* * *

They do. For some reason, the last part of this is filled with nothing but silence; it is as if every question that needed to be asked and answered was. Light fills the car on and off as they make the drive through Manhattan towards the bridge that will take them to Queens, illuminating first one, and then the other.

This is, Elliot thinks at this point, watching Kathleen from the corner of his eyes, one of the better days I've had in a long time. He wonders if maybe she thinks the same, but doesn't ask, choosing instead to concentrate on the road. The minute she realizes he's not watching her anymore, she turns her head slightly to watch him.

There have been a lot of questions and explanations, she muses, and definitely a lot to think about, but honestly, where she wanted to kill Maureen for doing this before, she doesn't, anymore. If there's one thing she has managed to learn, it is that her sister rarely does things without a reason (nowadays, anyway), and sooner or later, she'll find out the reasons behind this. With this in mind, she leans against the door on her side, knowing that it's locked, and closes her eyes.

By the time they get to the neighborhood in Queens, she is fast asleep. Elliot notices this only as he pulls into the driveway and shuts the car off before turning to look at her. The orange light from the streetlights is falling onto her face, but it doesn't wake her. He gets out, then, quietly, and walks over to the passenger side, opens the door, takes her out and picks her up, shifting her slightly in his arms so that she won't fall.

And then he carries her inside, slowly, and once they're both safely there, he pushes the front door closed behind them, with his foot, before heading up the stairs to tuck her into bed.


End file.
